townsman of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I am master of my own house on Zidovska street. I keep a strict ledger and expect debts paid.”
Things Simon had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The Wednesday before Whitsun, at Terce
My son Joseph does nothing but pace the floor boards and sigh like a sick calf. The girl was sent to Prague before Lent, and good riddance. A man needs a wife with a dowry, not an empty purse. He must learn a trade and stop this pathetic moaning.
Nota scribaeThe father spoke this in a cold fury, without raising his voice once.
The eve of St George, at None
Sarah is scrubbing the floors like a woman walking to the gallows. I pay her a fair quarter's wage and I will not have her moping in my sight. If she owes coin to someone, it is no business of mine, but she will not see an advance from my strongbox.
I am scrubbing as hard as I can, master Simon. The soap is harsh on my hands.
The third day of Easter week, at Prime
I have stopped buying my loaves from number twenty-three. Andrew still holds the shaping adze I lent him at Candlemas. It cost me a month's wages from a master smith, with a proper maker's mark. He claims he needs it for his troughs, but a borrower has no right to keep what is not his.
The wood for the new troughs was knotty, Simon. You shall have it back before the month is out, God willing.
God has nothing to do with my adze, baker. Bring it to my yard today.
Nota scribaeHe asked me to underline the part about the maker's mark.
The second Thursday of Lent, at Vespers
The roads are choked with soldiers and the grain merchants are asking a small fortune. A man must balance his ledger carefully these days or face ruin. At least Susanna runs a tight kitchen, so we shall not starve, though the price of flour makes me weep.
It is the same with meat, Simon. King Sigismund's men eat everything they see and pay in coppers.
Nota scribaeHe spent half the dictation tapping a silver coin on his wooden desk.
The morrow of Candlemas, at Sext
Like a fool, I took pity on a neighbour. I handed Andrew my finest shaping adze so he might mend his baking room. It is perfectly balanced. I expect it back by the end of the week, wiped clean of dust, just as I keep my own house.
My thanks, neighbour! It is a fine tool indeed. You have my word it is in safe hands.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
He will forget her in time, husband. I saw to it she went far enough.
You sent her away! She was the only good thing in this town.